


Garlands for the Conqueror

by rebelontherocks



Series: Tribute for the Prince [3]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, javi goes on an emotional journey courtesy of flower petals, the hurt/comfort is really mild except one short scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelontherocks/pseuds/rebelontherocks
Summary: "Javi is probably screwed either way. Probably has been since he kissed Yuzu that night in his living room, would still be screwed even if the only thing they ever did was kiss. He may be slow to open his eyes and get with the program, but once he does there's no going back. He might have been able to ignore his feelings for Yuzu indefinitely, but after that kiss the writing was on the wall whether Javi wanted to read it or not."





	Garlands for the Conqueror

**Author's Note:**

> I strongly recommend reading the previous fic in this series, or parts of this one won't make much sense.

The air tastes different in Madrid. Javi knows that, but somehow, he's never prepared for it. He's travelled all over the world, been lucky enough to see all kinds of places, but he thinks if there was a way to bottle air he'd be able to pick Madrid out of thousands of unlabelled bottles at a shop. He takes in a big lungful, enjoying the late winter crispness, smelling of spring already. When March comes around the almond trees will bloom, peppering the sidewalks with pale pink petals and filling the air with a sweet candied fragrance, but Javi won't be around to see any of that. In a week he'll be back in Toronto, and spring won't come until late April, maybe. There will be snow and bitter cold waiting for him back there. Something else too. If he wants it, maybe.

 

"Yo, Javi, you with us, man?" Iván waves a hand in front of Javi's face and jostles him out of his reverie. He was stuck on an image of the almond trees in full bloom. In the spring, almond trees and cherry trees look almost the same. Javi doesn't know why that matters. He's glad Iván snapped him out of it.

 

"Sorry, I was spacing out," he tells him shaking his head, as if trying to dislodge water from his ears. Almond blossoms and cherry blossoms are different, though. "What were you saying?"

 

"Boy, you really out of it." Xabi whistles, Caro calls him an idiot and slaps him on the arm to make him stop. "I was telling you, I'm going out with Gabi. You know....'too good for me', Gabi? 'She'll never look at you while I'm around', Gabi? Wasn't that what you said, last summer?" Xabi laughs, boastful and obnoxious. "Were you just pretending not to listen?"

 

Gabi who? "Uh, that's great, man. Congrats," Javi says, trying to make his smile look genuine. Maybe it's the petals, are they different shapes?

 

"You're a thousand leagues away," Iván says, giving Javi a thoughtful look. "Is it about Sochi?"

 

No, it's about flowers. Javi shakes his head. "No, uh, just thinking about training and stuff...about Worlds."

 

"Dude, you just got here," Xabi tells him, puzzled. "Usually you're all about unwinding and enjoying the break. Are you really that excited to get back to training?" He wrinkles his nose. "How aren't you gassed?"

 

"I want to do well...you know, medal." That much is true. He wants to put his poor showing at Sochi out of his mind and finish the season on a high note. He wouldn't be going to World's if he'd gotten on the podium at the Olympics. He wouldn't be going back to Toronto, at all. This wouldn't be a rare treat – sitting outside on a sunny February afternoon, snacking on rosquillas and drinking coffee brewed just right, out of a porcelain cup instead of a paper one – this would be his life. Javi thinks he should be more disappointed about having to postpone it all for another four years. His friends are giving him odd looks.

 

"Yeah, you've said that, already," Caro starts, slowly. She's always been the most diplomatic. "But you've been kind of, I don't know, in a daze, since you arrived. And if you say it isn't about Sochi, then there's something else." She's always been the most perceptive, too.

 

"Uh..."

 

"Wait, is this about a girl? Do you have a new girl?" Xabi asks, sounding just as excited as he would be back when they were kids in middle school. When a 'new girl' meant sitting next to someone on the bus home and pecking her on the lips before class. This is nothing like that. The degrees of separation between then and now are enough to make Javi's head spin.

 

"Uhm, not exactly..." He trails off lamely.

 

There's silence for a beat. Two.

 

"What do you mea-" Caro starts, but Xabi cuts her off with a gasp.

 

"Ohh, you didn't!" Xabi sounds elated, like a kid who just got a treat, Iván is giving him pointed looks and trying to discreetly get his attention. It isn't working on any count. "You've always looked at him like you wanted in his pants, man. I was wondering when you'd notice."

 

Javi is too stunned to say anything. On some level he guesses he always knew he acted different around Yuzu, he just didn't care to think too hard about what it meant. It definitely never occurred to him that it was obvious enough for other people to notice.

 

"Was I... uh, was I that obvious?" Javi asks, throat tight.

 

Caro touches him on the arm, her hand warm even through the layers of his sweater and jacket. "To the people who know you, yeah."

 

"It doesn't have to change anything, you know," Iván tells him with an encouraging smile. Javi smiles back.

 

It does change things, but not in the way Iván means. Javi is freaking the fuck out, but not because he worried about how his friends would react, he doesn't know what it says about him that the thought didn't even cross his mind. He's looking at their open, friendly faces, and he doesn't have the words to explain that there's a crowbar wedging his ribcage apart, and it has very little to do with the fact that he's been sleeping with a guy, and everything to do with the fact that that guy is Yuzu. They wouldn't get it. He can't explain himself and come out of the other side without looking like the world's biggest idiot. How can you tell your friends that you crashed and burned at the Olympics but you got the disappointment out of your system pretty quick by fucking the gold medalist into oblivion? That it had felt like its own kind of victory? Even now, he wants to get back to Toronto, not for the chance to redeem himself at World's, but because he'll get to see Yuzu again. Javi can't even look at that too closely without flinching.

 

"So... are you, like, together now?" Xabi asks.

 

Javi shrugs. "Not really." He can't be sure Yuzu even wants that, he was a little standoffish in Sochi, at times. He wanted Javi not to retire, beyond that, Javi doesn't have a clue.

 

"It'll be alright," Caro says, rubbing his arm again.

 

"Yeah," he says smiling at her. He inhales deeply and picks up a sweet honeyed scent. The almond trees are going to bloom early this year, but he's going to miss it anyway. "Hey, uh, what's the difference between an almond blossom and a cherry blossom?"

 

Iván scrunches up his face and gives him an odd look. "What is this, trivial pursuit?" That gets laughs out of Caro and Xabi both. "I think, I think, cherry blossoms are pinker, like, the colour is brighter, more intense."

 

Javi nods but remains quiet. Brighter. That makes sense. He doesn't dwell on what it means. He just closes his eyes turns his face up towards the sun, and imagines pale pink petals drifting in the breeze all around him.

 

\---

 

Javi arrives in Toronto before Yuzu, who is still in Japan doing interviews, going on talk-shows, maybe meeting the Emperor for all Javi knows. It's snowing when he arrives, and his flat is bitterly cold before the heating gets going. He collapses on the rug in front of the electric fireplace and tries to warm up his hands on the glass. He feels only slightly ridiculous. He gets into his warm bed that night, already dreading having to get up in the morning. Sleep doesn't come easy, he keeps going through a mental rolodex of everything he and Yuzu did on that bed before leaving for Sochi. Some of the shit Javi said in the heat of the moment, good lord, you couldn't pay him to repeat it in the cold harsh light of day. It doesn't stop him from getting unbearably turned on, annoyed with himself for not being able to put it out of his mind and just go to sleep. He ends up jerking off, tightening his fist around himself and wishing it was the hot clutch of Yuzu's body, instead. His orgasm when it comes is unsatisfying, but he does manage to fall asleep shortly after.

 

Returning to the rink doesn't feel very momentous. Brian keeps the platitudes about Sochi to a minimum, and just focuses on making corrections and giving advice all through practice, just like usual. In many ways it's like Javi never left, but Sochi feels like it marked a turn in the calendar, it's been weeks, but so much has happened. The ice should show some sign of that shift. Javi should show some sign of it, something tangible he could pick at, inspect closely. But no, everything is the same. Except Javi is training alone. His eyes keep being drawn to all the places where Yuzu isn't. That was never an issue before, and Javi doesn't need to wonder why it's happening now. He knows himself. When he was a kid he had a tendency to get obsessed with every new toy his parents got him, he'd play with it and ignore all others until he got a new one. Once in a while he'd remember an old toy and try to go back to it, but it was never the same. It was like that too with video games when he got older, he'd play a game like there was nothing else in the world, and then drop it cold turkey two weeks later and forget it existed. The only thing that never got boring was skating. His first true love, his only love. When he thinks about Yuzu he does feel that shiny new toy thrill, but the shine should have rubbed off by now, the fact that it hasn't terrifies him.

 

Which is why when Yuzu arrives Javi invites him over, cooks him dinner, and tells him they should stop sleeping together, between one forkful of paella and another.

 

Yuzu, who is eating with chopsticks, puts them down slowly over the lip of his bowl, picks up a napkin and dabs at the corners of his mouth; when he's done he balls it up and throws it at Javi's head. "Déjà vu," he says, which explains exactly nothing.

 

"Uh," it's the only thing Javi manages to say.

 

"Why?" Yuzu asks. Javi worried he might cry, but he doesn't look sad at all, he looks furious.

 

"It's just. I'm not sure it's the best thing, right now. I should focus on training, on practicing for Worlds and next season, and I can't do that if I'm thinking--" he stops himself from saying something he might regret in the present circumstances and says instead-- "about you all the time."

 

Yuzu shrugs, which surprises Javi all over again. "I think about you for two years, and I do fine. I won Olympic gold."

 

Javi knows he should have something to say to that. But his brain is stuck going over Yuzu's words. Two years.

 

It doesn't seem to matter that Javi can only gape like a fish out of water, because Yuzu fixes him with a chilling look and keeps talking, "You want to do better, train harder. Not my fault you're scared."

 

Javi has no idea what is happening, but he has well and truly lost the plot. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

 

"Remember what I said? Before Sochi?" Yuzu doesn't wait for Javi to reply, he's on a roll, his dark eyes are blazing with some emotion Javi can't name, but it makes something in his middle twist. "Don't run because you're scared."

 

This talk again. Javi managed to forget about it, because soon after they had it the first time around he was busy doing other, far more pleasurable, things. But apparently Yuzu remains convinced that whenever Javi doesn't agree with him it's a sign he lacks moral fiber, or something. Javi rubs his temples, gestures between the two of them, and says on a sigh, "I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of this. I just need to focus on training."

 

Yuzu scoffs and crosses his arms. "Bullshit."

 

"Yuzu, fuck..." It's like having a conversation with a goddamn wall. And Javi can't explain himself any better, because he can't make sense of his own feelings either. Not like Yuzu wants to listen, anyway. "Listen, you're a distraction. Maybe I was already distracted in Sochi, I don't know. Point is, this can't go on. I need to focus on skating." The worst part is that Yuzu is a distraction Javi welcomes. He should be angry and disappointed after missing out on an Olympic medal by such a slim margin, but he isn't. Javi should be retired right now, but he doesn't even mind. And that's a problem.

 

"Fine," Yuzu says, raising up his palms in a gesture of surrender that immediately rankles Javi. He gets up from the stool he was sitting on and carries his bowl and glass to the sink. He runs them under water and Javi wonders if he's going to have to watch Yuzu do the dishes after all of that. But he just lets them soak before shutting the water off and turning to face Javi again. "I don't fuck cowards."

 

Javi stares at him, at the angry moue on his pouty lips, the proud jut of his chin. He knows that Yuzu is trying to get a reaction out of him, get him to defend himself, or to fight back, maybe call Yuzu names too. But Javi's got nothing. So he just watches as Yuzu's shoulders slump and he makes his way out of the kitchen. Moments later Javi hears the front door open and close softly. Even angry, Yuzu would never be as inconsiderate as to disturb Javi's neighbours.

 

That night lying in bed Javi can't sleep, this time because he can't get Yuzu's words out of his mind. He said he'd been thinking about Javi for two years; and the whole time Javi didn't have a clue. Yuzu isn't the kind of person not to go after what he wants, so something must have stopped him. Did he think Javi didn't want him back? But if Javi's friends back in Spain had picked up on his interest over the tv screen and sketchy internet streams it's impossible Yuzu hadn't noticed. Which leaves one option, and it makes Javi's stomach turn sour. He thought Javi wasn't worth the effort. Whatever feelings Yuzu had harbored for him for two years he thought they were more trouble than they were worth. So much so that he went and started dating some French guy who literally wandered into their rink. That's how little Yuzu wanted to do with Javi. He's been beating himself up for weeks, poring over the nature of his feelings for Yuzu, turning them over in his head like cells under a microscope and Yuzu probably just took one look at him, thought 'uhm, inconvenient', and moved the fuck on with his life. And Javi can't even be mad at him because that would make him a hypocrite, since he arrived at pretty much the same conclusion.

 

It pisses him off, though. Being found lacking. Yuzu is probably in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling and fuming because he was right about Javi; thinking about how he shouldn't have bothered. Maybe he'll go back to the French guy. This is exactly the kind of maddening train of thought Javi was trying to avoid by putting a stop to things between him and Yuzu. But now it's over, and sleep doesn't come any easier.

 

Predictably, they keep to opposite sides of the rink during practice the next day. Poor Brian is going to get whiplash with all the mood swings lately, but he doesn't ask any questions and just puts up with both of them. Javi doesn't have trouble focusing that day. He has something to prove to Yuzu, maybe to himself, too. Sochi was a fluke, he'll be back on the podium in Saitama. He still has plenty more years of top skating in him. Perhaps he just needed to get angry enough to believe that, because he's landing every jump and nailing his spins. For his part Yuzu is going over some flexibility exercises, which is bizarre because those are usually done off-ice in one of the gyms. The realisation hits him when he notices Yuzu hyperextending his Biellmann -- he's showing off.

 

Javi may or may not have let slip, with Yuzu's ankles hooked behind his neck while they were fucking, how much of a turn on his flexibility was. Yuzu is sending him a not so subtle reminder of what he's going to be missing out on. And damn it all to hell if it isn't working. Because from where Javi is standing it seems like he's painted himself into a corner. He won't be happy to see Yuzu move on, whether he goes back to that French idiot or finds some other guy, but he also doesn't want to make his life complicated, and nothing about Yuzu has ever been simple.

 

He's probably screwed either way. Probably has been since he kissed Yuzu that night in his living room, would still be screwed even if the only thing they ever did was kiss. Javi might be slow to open his eyes and get with the program, but once he does there's no going back. He might have been able to ignore his feelings for Yuzu indefinitely, but after that kiss the writing was on the wall whether Javi wanted to read it or not.

 

After practice he tells Yuzu to stop by his apartment later.

 

"Why did you change your mind?" Yuzu asks, and then gasps when Javi nails him just right, driving his hips down into the mattress.

 

Javi slides one arm under Yuzu and pulls him up against his chest, so that they're both on their knees. He thrusts into Yuzu viciously, once, twice, making them both moan, he bands one around Yuzu's middle, keeping him in place so he can fuck into him as hard as he wants. He runs a proprietary hand down Yuzu's thigh, worrying at the sweaty skin with his fingernails and then says, "I can win at more than one thing."

 

Javi's talking a big game, one he isn't sure he can play yet. But making Yuzu moan and squirm like that makes him feel invincible. So yeah, he doesn't know the rules yet but he can learn.

 

Later, watching Yuzu's eyelids flutter from exhaustion, close to giving in to sleep, Javi runs his fingers through his soft hair and thinks some things only look complicated because you're looking at them from a distance. Close enough to see all the component parts the task seems less daunting, like brushstrokes that can be traced over. Yuzu's eyelashes brush against his cheek, Javi watches fondly as he sighs, burrows in closer, and falls asleep.

 

\---

 

The airport is a mess when they arrive in Japan for Worlds, there's press everywhere, and Javi can only watch in appalled fascination as a crowd of reporters swallows up Yuzu. Javi gives him a pitying look over the shoulder and hightails it out of there. He'd be lying if he said he doesn't sometimes resent the adulation Yuzu enjoys in Japan, especially when he has trouble getting any kind of recognition in Spain, but at times like these he thinks maybe Yuzu got the rawer deal.

 

"What did the adoring masses want?" Javi asks him, when they're in his hotel room, stretched out on their stomachs side by side on the bed, with the tv playing some loud game show in the background.

 

"Beauty secrets," Yuzu says with a smirk, and rolls his shoulder against Javi's side. They aren't doing anything, just enjoying each other's proximity and unwinding from the exhausting flight.

 

"Uhm, what did you tell them?" Javi runs his fingers from Yuzu's shoulder blades up into the shorter hair at his nape. Yuzu shivers under his touch but doesn't pull away. "Five minutes with your face buried in fresh Canadian snow each morning for a youthful complexion?"

 

Yuzu snorts and inches his face closer to Javi to lay an unexpected bite on his chin. "They wanted to know that I'm going to keep working hard, do my best, win more medals," he shrugs, "The usual."

 

"No pressure, eh?" The thing about not having an entire country hanging on to his every word is that Javi only has himself to disappoint if things go wrong.

 

Yuzu cuts his eyes to Javi and gives him an impish smirk. "None."

 

He must mean it because he cruises to a gold medal, then again, Javi isn't feeling that much pressure either because he tops his personal best score on the short and lands the bronze handily. It's nice. He's closing the season on a high note, like he wanted, and he feels optimistic about the future. On to bigger and better things. All that jazz.

 

Yuzu on the other hand doesn't seem to be in any hurry to see the season come to a close, and why would he? He's having the kind of season most figure skaters only dream of. He's hyperactive all through gala practice, smiling and hugging everyone who'll stand still long enough, and as usual his mood is infectious. Javi lets himself be reeled in by him, pulled into his orbit. Yuzu soaks up affection like a sponge and Javi loves being generous, so they probably spend a conspicuous amount of time together. Other people begin to notice, and it's fine, no one says anything. He has a quiet talk with Maya and Alex, who he's always liked, just so they don't think he feels like he needs to hide from them.

 

They still try to be discreet, keep suspicions to a minimum, it helps that they've always been handsy with each other. Yuzu doesn't trust the judges, doesn't trust that they wouldn't lower their scores as punishment if they found out. Javi doesn't know how much of that is legitimate danger, and how much of it is Johnny's horror stories inflating Yuzu's fear. However, Javi does know he comes from a country where gay marriage has been legal since 2005 and it's probably not his place to question the concerns of American and Japanese gay people. Wondering eyes or not, up until two months ago Javi had only been with women, so he feels like he doesn't have a right to question a lot of things. Not yet. Although, ironically if it were to come out that he was in a relationship with Yuzu the Spanish press would probably develop an interest in him overnight. He'd be invited to all sorts of events. Jesus, they'd expect him to give speeches. 'Was it awful in Sochi? Aren't you glad you live in a civilised country instead of in all those other awful places?' Because fuck the people who do, right? He glances at Yuzu just as he skates towards the boards to talk with a few assembled reporters. Yeah, Javi wants the national recognition but he can definitely live without the media circus.

 

"Let's go for a walk," he tells Yuzu when they're leaving the rink and putting their skate guards on. They have some time to kill before the closing banquet, and Javi wants to go someplace where there aren't so many eyes on them.

 

There's a boulevard just outside the arena with rows of cherry trees lining the sidewalk along the road. They're in full bloom, and it rains petals every time the wind rustles the branches. Javi smiles, he missed out on the almond blossoms back home, but this is a pretty amazing substitute, if slightly pinker. He and Yuzu walk under the trees in silence for a while. Yuzu catches a few falling petals on his open palm and throws them at Javi. He retaliates by sprinkling Yuzu with petals over his head. He laughs when Yuzu's efforts to shake them loose only tangle them further in his hair. They sit on a wooden bench facing the riverfront, their backs to the pedestrians and the occasional car, it's a quiet day. And Saitama isn't Tokyo.

 

"So, when the cherries come, will people pick them off the trees on their morning commute?" Javi asks, hooking one arm over the back of the bench, just barely grazing Yuzu, and pointing up at the hanging branches with his other hand.

 

Yuzu gives him an amused look, like he expects Javi to add something else. When he doesn't, Yuzu throws his head back and laughs. "There will be no cherries. Sakura trees have no fruit, just flower."

 

"Uh," Javi says. You learn something every day.

 

"Your grandmother would not like this tree. No purpose, just beauty," Yuzu says, suddenly, tone wistful. Javi wonders if they're still talking about the trees.

 

"You can say that about a lot of things," Javi says eventually with a shrug.

 

"Like figure skating?"

 

Now it's Javi's turn to laugh. "Yeah, like figure skating."

 

It's a lovely day, the sky is clear and the air smells crisp, the cherry blossoms don't smell sugary exactly, it's more bittersweet than that, but the pink petals pouring down on them make Javi feel like he's inside a snow globe, suspended inside some quaint vignette. Yuzu is smiling at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and Javi is suddenly, blindingly grateful he didn't retire. After chancing a quick look around to make sure no one's watching them, Javi leans over and kisses him, a small lingering kiss that makes his fingertips tingle. Yuzu's eyes are still closed when they break apart, and when he finally opens them the depths of emotion Javi can read in there should make him want to run for the hills. Instead he wraps one arm around Yuzu's shoulder and edges closer, until Yuzu's head is resting on his bicep and their feet are almost touching. Javi looks out at the gentle ripples breaking the stillness of the river's surface and takes it all in. This stolen moment, Yuzu's hair tickling the underside of his chin, the flurry of pink flowers all around them – It might just be the best thing he's won all season. He tightens his hold on Yuzu's shoulder and doesn't let that realisation scare him.

 

\---

 

The off-season is fun, Javi spends time with his family and friends, goes to the beach, gets a couple of sunburns, and learns that he's a pretty good texter. By comparison, Yuzu is terrible. He leaves Javi on read, replies in short sentences and uses too many emojis. Somehow, they make it work. Creative skype calls are also involved. Yuzu's exhibitionist streak keeps things exciting, even when the connection gets spotty and the video lags.

 

Javi tells his family about the change in relationship status with Yuzu. Which, uh, actually, they haven't talked in any detail about that, Javi guesses they are exclusive, on account that they've never used condoms, ever, but that's about it. His parents just want to know when they can expect Yuzu to come visit, and that's another thing they've never discussed, so Javi grabs some more ice cream and changes subjects. Real is really on another level this season, uh?

 

All in all, the only person who gives them any trouble is Brian, who just comes out and says, "I think this is a disaster waiting to happen." Javi would be tempted to agree not too long ago, but right now he's kind of enjoying his life and would rather not worry himself with things that haven't happened yet, so he just shrugs and makes some noncommittal noises. Yuzu cuts straight to the middle, as usual. "Too late now." And frankly, there's not much Brian can say to that.

 

When they get back to Toronto to start training for the new season things go on without a hitch, so it's not like Brian can accuse them of slacking off or anything. It still surprises Javi to get a call from Brian, who's supposed to be in Shanghai, in the middle of the night. "It's not as bad as it looks," Brian's frazzled voice tells him over the line. "Don't look at any pictures. Uh, he probably shouldn't, but he's going to skate the free anyway. Don't call him."

 

"Brian, what?" Javi knuckles sleep out of his eyes while his brain tries to process Brian's words enough to understand them.

 

"Yuzu had an accident."

 

That wakes Javi up faster than a bucket of cold water.

 

Javi ends up calling Yuzu, because there's no way he can't after seeing the objectively horrifying pictures of Yuzu covered in his own blood, and the stomach-turning video of him lying immobile on the ice for upwards to two minutes.

 

"Baby, don't skate," is the first thing Javi tells Yuzu when he picks up. "You might have a concussion, it's too dangerous."

 

"Émile said the same thing," Yuzu says, his voice sounds distant and tinny but coherent. Javi will revisit the Émile thing at a later time. "Doctors said I'm fine. I can skate."

 

No amount of pleading will change his mind, so Javi admits defeat as long as Yuzu promises to stop at the first sign of nausea or blurry vision. He doesn't know how much he can trust Yuzu's assurances that he will, but there's not much Javi can do all the way from Canada. He ends up not being able to fall asleep again and stays up to watch Yuzu's free skate. It's an unmitigated disaster as expected. Yuzu falls more times than Javi can count, and it makes him flinch each time, but somehow, somehow, he still wins a silver medal.

 

"I'm going back early. I need stitches," Yuzu says, sounding drowsy over the phone.

 

Javi sputters some, but his protests only make Yuzu yawn. He shows up at Javi's door the next day, his head wrapped in bandages, a brace on his right ankle and high as a kite on painkillers.

 

Javi sighs, and gestures towards Yuzu's general person and overall sorry state. "Was it worth it?"

 

Yuzu gives him a big, dopey grin and says, "Yes," while brandishing a silver medal.

 

He changes his tune as soon as the painkillers wear off, and he can't find a comfortable position on the sofa. Javi fluffs pillows and gives him extra blankets, but Yuzu still moans weakly each time he shifts around.

 

"Maybe not that worth it," he says when they're getting ready for bed and he has to negotiate the sheets like an eighty-year-old man.

 

Javi snorts and kisses Yuzu's forehead once they're both settled and facing each other under the covers, "Jeez, you think?"

 

"You can help me feel better?" Yuzu says, tracing patterns with the tips of his fingers on Javi's bare chest. His tone is leading, and Javi catches on to his intentions pretty quick.

 

"Baby, no offense, but you're all banged up," Javi says, bringing his hand over Yuzu's and linking their fingers. "I've never wanted to have sex with you less."

 

That makes Yuzu laugh, and then wince in pain when laughing makes him jostle his foot. "My point exactly," Javi says, brushing a soft kiss against Yuzu's lips.

 

Yuzu gets better, albeit not as fast as he'd like. His initial easygoing good-humour about his injuries devolves rapidly into despondent nastiness. It gets worse when Javi needs to leave for the Rostelecom cup and Yuzu is left alone with his thoughts in Javi's flat with only some light off-ice exercises to keep him occupied. Javi entertains the idea of going out to celebrate his gold medal on the flight back but his good mood evaporates when he's met with Yuzu's prickly disposition.

 

It's a relief for both of them when Yuzu gets back on the ice. At least until it becomes obvious he won't be ready in time for the NHK trophy. Javi doesn't even bother trying to talk him out of competing, he knows Yuzu wants to qualify for the Grand Prix final no matter what. He does poorly but manages to qualify by the skin of his teeth, he's smug when he tells Javi his silver at the Cup of China helped him make it to the final, potential risk of concussion or not. Javi wouldn't even be competing in the series this season if the final weren't going to be held in Barcelona, but he has to admit it would be disappointing not to have Yuzu there.

 

"Because you want to beat me in your country?" Yuzu asks him, with a knowing smirk.

 

"It would add to the experience..."Javi concedes, noncommittal. His detached expression cracks when Yuzu pokes him in the side and tells him to be honest. "Ok, fine, I want to kick your ass while my whole country watches, happy now?"

 

Yuzu laughs gleefully and jumps into Javi's arms with enough force to topple them both off the couch. "Very," he says, smiling the word against Javi's lips.

 

That's the good thing about Yuzu's moods, Javi muses, laying on his back on the floor, panting, after he and Yuzu tire themselves out play-wrestling – they change as quick as the weather. Looking at Yuzu's sweaty red face, beaming brightly down at Javi is no different than seeing the sun finally peek through an overcast sky after a miserable rainy day. Javi soaks it up like so much sunshine.

 

He isn't feeling that sunny when he ends up losing the gold to Yuzu in Barcelona, but the joy of skating in front of a home crowd, and the knowledge that figure skating was leaving a permanent mark in Spain wins over his bruised ego. Fucking Yuzu in a broom closet, trying to keep their voices down as to not alert any passerby's, helps too.

 

World's shakes things up. Javi likes to think of himself as someone as gracious in victory as in defeat. If asked, he would describe Yuzu the same way. But when Javi wins the gold Yuzu goes through the motions of the polite silver medallist but his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and it needles Javi the whole time they hug and pose for pictures.

 

"What's your problem?" Javi asks, once they're finally alone in his hotel room.

 

"Nothing," Yuzu says, tone dismissive. And hell, if that doesn't piss off Javi all over again.

 

"Yuzu, don't be a brat. I'm not going to apologise for winning."

 

That gets a reaction out of him. Yuzu's eyes flash with barely contained emotion, he stalks over to Javi, climbs over him and pushes him down on the bed. "I don't want you to."

 

It's like gasoline being poured on a fire after that. They tear at each other's clothes and skin with fingernails and teeth. Yuzu snarls against Javi's lips when Javi tries to kiss him; feral. It's like trying to tame a wild animal, and Javi's never been more turned on in his life. He manages to pin Yuzu under him, but it's a struggle the whole time, with Yuzu trying to slip out his grasp, kicking and squirming away. Javi has to reel him back by the ankle, dragging him across the bed, until he can get on top of him and pin his arms over his head.

 

"Yuzu, stop. Stop," Javi says, fingers hooked under Yuzu's jaw, forcing him to meet Javi's eyes. "Tell me what you want."

 

What Yuzu wants is to ride Javi into the mattress, while Javi can only hold on to his thighs, as he moves over Javi's cock in short, slow, rolls of his hips, chasing only his own pleasure and leaving Javi aching with the need to be buried deeper. Javi wants to thrust up into him, chase that tight, hot heat that's like a tease around the tip of his cock. Yuzu's abdominal muscles bunch with the strain of keeping himself impaled just on the first couple of inches of Javi's cock, moving just enough for Javi's cockhead to rub against his prostate and no more. He tries to snap his hips up, get more of himself inside, but Yuzu stops him with a hand on his chest, and another behind his back, holding down Javi's right leg. Javi lets out a frustrated moan, he's growing more desperate by the minute, he wants to set his own pace, fuck into Yuzu just the way he likes, instead of being made to feel like a rocking horse for Yuzu to fuck himself on at his leisure.

 

"Baby, come on, let me move," he says, sliding his hands from Yuzu's hips up his waist and chest to run his thumbs over peaked nipples. "You're killing me."

 

Yuzu smiles down at him, almost beatific, and slides down all the way until he's fully seated on Javi's cock. Javi's eyes roll back into his skull at that maddening slow descent, but it soon becomes apparent Yuzu is not done torturing him yet. He rocks back and forth minutely, grinding his hips down against Javi and letting out small coquettish moans, completely artificial and unlike the sounds he usually makes, putting up a show because he can.

 

"You call me pet names when you want something," Yuzu says, raising up just enough that Javi can catch a tantalising glimpse of his cock inside him. "'Baby, don't do that,' 'Baby, do this'" he stops himself to score his nails down Javi's chest and watch him squirm. "'Baby, go to sleep', 'Nene, let me fuck you.'"

 

Hearing Yuzu list off Javi's words back at him in that dispassionate tone should not be as hot as it is. "I also call you endearments when I want to mollify you," he groans when Yuzu twists his nipple, "do you know what that means?"

 

"When you want me to shut up." He gets a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes and raises up on his knees until Javi's cock almost slips out of him, before slamming back down as hard as he can, driving a point home, and Javi insane. "Tell me, what is best? Winning gold or fucking me?"

 

Javi stares up at him wild-eyed, Yuzu is completely still now, he probably doesn't plan on moving again until Javi answers him. They left the blinds open, and there's a sliver of moonlight coming in through the window, it throws the room in sharp contrast and limns Yuzu's torso in silver. Javi wants him so much. A visceral sort of want he thought only existed in books. It should worry him with how easy it can cloud his mind, but even this prolonged torture feels like a gift, because it means he's wanted back. But Javi is greedy, he and Yuzu have that in common, and he wants more than one thing.

 

"Will you let me come if I say it's a tie?" Javi asks.

 

Yuzu's studied, controlled expression crumbles and he smiles, as if he didn't expect Javi to admit to even that much. He leans over, his chest flat against Javi's, his hard cock digging against Javi's stomach, and Javi wraps his arms around him and kisses him, first on the jaw then on the lips, hungry and reverent all at once. Yuzu starts rocking against Javi, slowly at first, but soon his hips pick up speed, the friction grows and catches, Javi gets his feet under him and finally, blissfully thrusts up into him, holding him still so he can fuck his cock into him with deep, hard strokes. Yuzu moans against Javi's neck, deep and raw, and that's how Javi knows he's hitting him where it counts. Yuzu gets up on his knees again, balancing himself with both hands on Javi's chest and slams back down to meet Javi's thrusts, both of them chasing after the same goal now. Javi grips him by the waist, for better purchase, nails cutting tiny crescents into sweaty skin, and watches mesmerised as Yuzu's hard cock bobs and drips a steady stream of precum down onto Javi's stomach.

 

Javi feels like he's been on the edge for hours, and now he's hurtling fast towards the finish line. "I'm close," he says, curling his fingers around Yuzu's shaft, and pumping once, before his hand is swatted away with a hiss.

 

"Not yet." Yuzu slows his movements down to that maddening grind. "Make me come first."

 

Javi gets the message, but he isn't going to be just a spectator while Yuzu fucks himself to orgasm on his cock. As hot as that can be, he's too on edge to handle it. "Fine, but we're turning this party over."

 

He flips Yuzu on his back, rolling him first on his side and then climbing on top of him. He gets both hands under Yuzu's knees, spreading him wide, almost bowled over by the sight of his swollen, twitching hole, and guides his cock back inside. Javi sets a demanding pace, fucking Yuzu with hard, punishing thrusts, making him groan and hide his face in his bicep, muffling moans that are almost sobs. Javi loves him like this, completely lost to bliss, little hole clenching arrhythmically around Javi's cock, trying to keep him in whenever Javi pulls back.

 

He feels Yuzu's body tightening up in the tell-tale sign that he's close, Javi curses under his breath and angles Yuzu's hips up, driving into his prostate with each thrust. Yuzu lets out a string of cut off 'ah-ah-ah' moans, squirming on the sheets like he can't process the pleasure and needs to get away from it. Javi bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, when Yuzu finally comes, spine arching in a painful-looking bow, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach and chest. Javi can muster only a couple more thrusts before he's coming too, bowled over and gasping in big heaving breaths, arms shaking from the strain of trying to hold himself up.

 

"Great showing, +3 all around," Javi tells Yuzu, after he pulls out and collapses on the bed next to him.

 

Yuzu is radiating smugness, and that bone-deep satisfaction that Javi loves knowing he's the cause of. "Enough for the gold?"

 

"Mhm, yeah, you're always a winner to me, baby," Javi says, running his fingers through Yuzu's sweaty hair. They both need a shower, when the post-sex lethargy clears enough for them to move. Javi wonders if his knees will be adequately steady by then to go for round two.

 

"I don't hate losing to you," Yuzu says, after a moment's quiet. "I hate losing to myself."

 

In a way, Javi has always known that. Yuzu is his own biggest competition. He's trying to be break his own world records in every competition. He can be happy with a silver if he knows he did the best he could, if he overcame all the challenges he set for himself, it's when he falls short of his own expectation that things get messy. Javi has never dwelt that much on victories or losses, it is what it is. He does the best he can and accepts the outcome. Yuzu stews.

 

"You're not competing just against yourself, though. That's not how it works."

 

"I know," he says with a sigh. "I wish, I wish we could both win, always." It's a generous sentiment, coming from him. Yuzu loves glory more than Javi ever will, it says a lot that he doesn't mind sharing it with Javi.

 

"That's nice, nene, I love beating you, though." It's the truth, he might not dwell on the results but Javi loves coming out on top, he just doesn't hold it against Yuzu when he doesn't. "And next year, I'm gonna beat you again," he says, hiding his smirk against Yuzu's shoulder.

 

Yuzu laughs and rolls on top of Javi, leaning over until he can press sharp biting kisses to Javi's mouth. "We'll see."

 

\---

 

The next season goes by exactly like the last. Yuzu wins the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, again. Javi wins the gold at Worlds, again. Yuzu shatters a few more world records along the way, and Javi is on his way to making history in the European Championships. He wants to break the record for most consecutive wins more than he has ever wanted anything in his life. He knows he's going to make it too. He remembers a conversation with Iván after Spain lost in the 2014 Worldcup, Iván shrugged off the loss with a pithy, 'who cares about the Worldcup, everyone knows the Eurocup is what really matters.' Javi had told him, 'the rest of the world, the rest of the world cares,' Iván shrugged again, like water off his back, clearly that was the world's problem. Well, Javi doesn't have as much as a moral molehill to stand on now, because he clings to his European Championship titles with the same narcissistic pride Iván boasted about Spain's three Eurocup victories. The two World titles are just the cherry on top of the cake.

 

The only difference is that by the end of the season both he and Yuzu are pretty banged up, Yuzu even more so. Javi decides they need a holiday, so they can both lick their wounds, and so that he can keep an eye on Yuzu and stop him from brooding over his injuries and what they mean for his future. That's how Javi ends up driving them to Clearwater, in British Columbia where they're going to stay for a week in one of Émile's teammate's lakeside cabin. Javi isn't necessarily excited about the prospect of their romantic getaway being facilitated by Yuzu's ex, who eventually morphed into Yuzu's closest friend in Toronto, at least until he got invited to attend the Montreal Canadiens training camp as an undrafted free agent and was promptly offered a contract. Yuzu watches his games sometimes and tells Javi Émile is a fan favourite because he speaks French. Javi wishes that string of words made any sense to him.

 

He would much prefer a tropical vacation in Bali or Thailand, but the cabin is free and secluded, and according to Yuzu, who's going off Émile's testimony, perfect for loud outdoors sex, so that seals it. Javi has to admit Canada is beautiful in the summer, and he and Yuzu are rarely around to enjoy it. The drive is long and scenic and they stop along the way to charge the electric car Javi insisted on, and stay overnight at charming bed and breakfasts, surrounded by greenery and the sounds of nature. Javi has never driven so much in his life, he gets dizzy just watching the kilometres tick by on the dashboard. By his calculations when they arrive in Clearwater, they'll have travelled almost the same distance as from Madrid to Moscow, all without leaving Canada. It pisses him off, no country has any business being that large. That's part of the reason why Russia has always been an outsider in Europe, large open territory makes most Europeans uneasy, Javi is no exception. He shares his views with Yuzu, who mulls this over for a second before declaring, 'Countries that aren't islands make me uncomfortable.' Javi doesn't have anything to say to that.

 

As much fun as the drive was, Javi is relieved when they arrive, and glad they're dropping off the rental at the Kamloops airport on the way back and flying to Toronto. The cabin has a charming pastoral air about it, with neat flowerbeds on the windowsills and windchimes hanging off some of the logs. The interior is surprisingly sleek. The kitchen has granite countertops and all the amenities of a city flat, there are large deck windows leading up the back porch, with a few parasols and a couple lounge chairs artfully arranged around a firepit on the lush green grass, a quaint gravel path leads up to the edge of the lake.

 

"I should have been a hockey player," Javi says, looking around at his lavish surroundings. It's amazing how much work went into making the cabin look unassuming from the outside only to furnish it with all the comforts of a small mansion. The veneer of simple country life, and none of the hassle. Javi isn't sure how he feels about it, but they're here now.

 

"Not tall enough," Yuzu says, walking past him and into the kitchen to start putting away their groceries. "If you wanted money, football players make the most."

 

"You can't kick up a rock without finding an aspiring footballer in Spain, no thank you," Javi says, wrinkling his nose. He likes watching football well enough, but the game is so ubiquitous that to Javi it's hard to see any artistry to it. Too mundane.

 

Yuzu leans over the half-wall separating the kitchen from the living room on his elbows and gives Javi an unimpressed look. "Because you always have to be different," he stops for a second, considering his words, "always have to swim against the current."

 

"That's right, I'm a majestic salmon, and football is the bear in my way," he says, making Yuzu double over in laughter. That metaphor might be more apt than Yuzu realises, if Spain wasn't so obsessed with football there would be more money for other sports, as well as more kids interested in practicing them. Javi is going to change that if it kills him.

 

They spend the day swimming in the lake, staying close to the shore and just generally lazing around outside, taking advantage of the good weather. There isn't a soul around, even though there's probably plenty more cabins hiding away between the trees, just as secluded as theirs, and it suits Javi just fine, he spends too much time in cities, all this peace and quiet is a welcome change. They grill some fish over the firepit for dinner, salmon coincidently, and eat on the lounge chairs, looking out at the calm surface of the lake reflecting the moonlight back at them.

 

There's a huge hot tub, because of course there is, and Yuzu insists on turning it on and having a soak after they eat. Despite Javi's initial humming awing at all the work it would take, he's immediately boneless once he gets in the warm water, the temperature has dropped somewhat and the chilly breeze feels delicious on his heated skin. They didn't even bother packing swim trunks and have spent most of the day walking around naked, but now, with the warm steam rising around them and the lassitude of the day settling over Javi like a shroud, the low-grade arousal he has felt all day mounts. Yuzu is completely relaxed next to him, resting his elbows over the back of the tub, eyes closed, waterdrops clinging to his exposed skin like gems. Javi takes in the sight greedily, it's so rare to see him like this, completely still, without that current of electricity sparking under his skin. He runs one hand from Yuzu's knee up to the inside of his thigh, knuckles brushing against his soft cock.

 

Yuzu cracks one eye open and gives Javi a saucy smirk, he was probably aiming for this when he suggested they get in the water. "Something you want?"

 

"Yeah, turn around. Over here," Javi says, patting the wooden slat attached to the rim of the tub, probably intended to work as a table. Yuzu does, ass in the air, his knees balanced on the bench running all around the inside of the tub.

 

Javi runs his hands over the back of Yuzu's thighs, digging into soft skin, he drops a kiss to each cheek, nuzzling against Yuzu's ass. He runs both thumbs over his crack, from taint to hole, and spreads him wide. Yuzu gasps when the cool night air hits his skin, but he doesn't tell Javi to stop. Javi has always loved eating pussy, and it turns out eating a guy out is pretty much the same, but Yuzu is fussy about it, doesn't always want Javi to do it, even when Javi's panting for it, so he doles it out like a treat – Javi still isn't sure if that isn't just some clever reverse psychology tactic.

 

He teases Yuzu's hole with the point of his tongue, flicking it gently against the tight muscle, daring it to open up to him. Yuzu curses and sighs, leaning on his shoulder to get a better look at Javi between his thighs. Javi gets his hands on Yuzu's hips and hauls him back against his mouth, he flattens his tongue against his hole, lapping at him with intent, leaving him sloppy and wet with saliva. He sucks one finger into his mouth, and presses it into Yuzu with ease, his rim is softening under his tongue, twitching desperately for more. Javi gives it to him, getting his tongue inside, licking around his finger. Yuzu keens out Javi's name and reaches back with one hand to grip his hair and bears down against Javi's face. Javi tilts his finger towards Yuzu's belly-button, seeking and finding, he adds another one when Yuzu warns him he's about to come. He scissors his fingers apart, spreading Yuzu's hole as far as it'll got and fits as much of his tongue inside as he can. Gluttonous for the pained, desperate sounds Yuzu is making, the obscene clench of his insides nearing orgasm. Yuzu comes with a shout, Javi feels the contractions on his tongue and keeps lapping at him until Yuzu tells him to stop in a broken sob.

 

Javi gets up on his knees and jerks off with hard, quicks strokes, coming all over Yuzu's back and ass. One day he'll take a picture of Yuzu like that, for now he just collapses back on the water, making it splash everywhere. Yuzu heaves himself down from the ledge and joins him, settling over his lap and resting his face against Javi's chest. He's still panting, chest moving with the effort to take in air, Javi gentles him with a hand on his neck, makes shushing sounds against his hair.

 

"We made a mess," Yuzu says, when he regains the ability to string coherent words together.

 

They did, they'll have to empty the tub and fill it up again, Javi finds he doesn't much care. "I like our messes."

 

Yuzu snickers against Javi's skin and then lets out a yawn. They should probably go to bed, but Javi wants to stay out just a little longer, enjoy the breeze on his overheated skin, the glittering stars like stark white paint splatters against the blackness of the sky, and Yuzu's solid weight in his arms. Sleep can wait.

 

\---

 

The following season hits Javi like a car crash. It starts well enough, with golds in the Rostelecom cup and the Trophée de France but it quickly gets worse from there, he finishes off the podium in both the Grand Prix final and Worlds – it stings more than he cares to admit. In the middle of it all he's only glad he's managed to keep his European championship streak going.

 

He breaks down in his hotel room, in front of Yuzu, after having to answer a number of leading questions from reporters who are really curious about whether or not he expects to medal at the Olympics next year.

 

"Maybe this is it, you know?" He says, muffled against Yuzu's sweatpants. He's lying on his stomach, head resting on Yuzu's lap while he runs his fingers through Javi's hair. "Maybe, I'll only get worse from here. Getting slower and stiffer until there's no point competing any longer.

 

"No, you're wrong," Yuzu says, with all the conviction in the world, and keeps running his fingers through Javi's hair, pulling slightly here and there, because Yuzu's brand of tenderness is always going to sting just a little. "You had a bad season, now it's over. Next year, do better."

 

It's not that simple. Javi doesn't feel like it's that simple, he was ready to retire after Sochi, maybe he has been running on fumes the whole time since then and now the tank has finally run out for good. It happens all the time, one season a skater is on top of the world, the next they are lucky to scrape the top ten in their national qualifiers. Javi is terrified next season is going to be even worse than this one, that he won't get to retire at the height of his skill, with all of his achievements still fresh in everyone's memory, that he will have to watch audiences give him pitying glances, ISU officials push the conversation towards coaching jobs, talk about training the youth of the future, because he belongs to the past and he's embarrassing everyone by trying and failing to stay relevant.

 

Yuzu tugs on his hair sharply, Javi hisses. "Thinking too loud, stop."

 

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" Javi asks, sour.

 

Yuzu huffs. "You are healthy, no serious injuries, no reason you can't do well again. Émile told me hockey players without injuries have longer careers, he says it is why he will play until he's fifty, same as you, skating until-," he pauses, realising the need to come up with a more reasonable, yet just as improbable, age for a figure skater, "thirty-five."

 

Javi laughs despite his best efforts, and curls his fingers around Yuzu's hips, rubbing his face against his thigh. He can almost believe Yuzu when he talks like this, so sure of himself, like he only needs to speak the words to make them happen.

 

"Wow, to that ripe old age? You promise?" The worst thing is that thirty-five does feel old, Javi was feeling old four years ago. He doesn't think figure skaters are ever allowed to feel young, there's always something biting at their heels, propelling them forward at terminal velocity. Most of them don't arrive anywhere pleasant.

 

"Not if you stay annoying." Yuzu rolls his eyes. "I'm an idiot for loving you."

 

Javi can't believe Yuzu is dropping that on him, after three years, in a non-descript hotel room. All the pivotal moments in their relationship seem to happen at Worlds for some reason, ironically a competition neither of them is that emotionally attached to, for vastly different reasons.

 

"You love me?" Javi asks. It isn't a surprising revelation, by any means, he just didn't think they were ever going to talk about it.

 

Yuzu sputters and pins Javi with a murderous glare. "You don't?"

 

Javi scrambles to get up to be at eye-level with Yuzu. "Of course I do! It's just...you never said it before."

 

"You need to be told the sky is blue?"

 

Javi has to smile at that, he probably looks like a fool, he's been told he tends to look that way around Yuzu. He can't find the energy to care, not when Yuzu thinks loving Javi is as indisputable as the colour of the sky.

 

"No, I guess I don't," he says, and braces himself on Yuzu's shoulders to kiss him, sweet and lingering.

 

"You think too much," Yuzu says, between kisses, hands roving from Javi's shoulders to his back. "It's why you should trust me, things will be better next season."

 

"I do, baby, I do," Javi says, and finds he means it. Javi might be hurtling blindly towards an unknown destination, but he isn't doing it alone, and that makes all the difference.

 

\---

 

Javi is bracing himself for a fight when he tells Yuzu he wants them to spend less time training together. He just feels like he needs the ice to himself if he wants to focus fully on being ready for the Olympics, he knows, with absolute certainty, that this is his last shot, and he can't be worried about which elements Yuzu is or isn't performing and how he's going to measure up if he wants to make it to the podium. This isn't about them pushing each other anymore, Javi just wants this one last thing, and one more European title, and then he thinks he'll be ready to call it a career. Maybe.

 

Yuzu surprises him when instead of complaining he just kisses Javi and says he thinks it's a good idea.

 

They still see each other at home every night, and it is home now, not just Javi's flat, Yuzu has been living there for the past two years, but it only felt official when Yuzu's mom moved back to Japan and gave them a rice cooker as a house-warming gift.

 

Things are good for a while, Javi feels confident about his chances, the Olympic podium doesn't feel like the Everest anymore. And then Yuzu gets injured.

 

This time it's worse than all the other times put together, and Javi is out of his depth, because Yuzu isn't acting antsy and moody, he's terrified. Javi tries to keep up an optimistic front, but he's scared too. Yuzu has to stay off the ice for months, and even then, the doctors can't guarantee he'll be ready in time for the Olympics. One of them blithely tells Javi he isn't sure Yuzu will ever skate competitively again. Javi smiles politely and advises him to keep his opinions to himself.

 

One day Javi gets home from practice to hear muffled sobbing coming from the bedroom. He dashes inside and finds Yuzu crumpled on the floor, shoulders shaking with the strength of his sobs. Javi picks him up under the knees and deposits him on the bed, he climbs up after him and wraps himself around Yuzu's back, rubbing his arms and legs until the shivers subside.

 

"My foot got numb," Yuzu starts, voice thready. "I couldn't feel anything. I thought. I thought, maybe I wouldn't again."

 

Javi's heart climbs up to his throat. "Is the feeling back?" Yuzu nods, and Javi can exhale again.

 

"So stupid," Yuzu says, hiding his face in his palms.

 

"Hey, no, don't say that." It kills Javi to see Yuzu like this. He has a few kilos on him, but Javi has never found Yuzu fragile, now he looks brittle, like a strong gust of wind could scatter his bones around. Javi hugs him closer to his chest. "It's okay to be scared. But you'll get better, you're already getting better. It was just a bad day."

 

"What if-" Javi can hear the sound of Yuzu's throat clicking. "What if Émile is right? Too many injuries, short career."

 

"Émile can go fuck himself," Javi says with feeling. "You are not a hockey player. Your ankle will heal, you'll skate at the Olympics again, and for as many years after as you want."

 

Yuzu shakes his head, but the slump of his shoulders relaxes a fraction. "I don't kno-"

 

Javi cuts him off, "you will, because I say so." He presses a fierce kiss to Yuzu's exposed nape and tightens his arms around his middle. "I promise, Yuzu, you will."

 

Yuzu's rehab goes about as smoothly as pulling teeth. He has more bad days, and Javi isn't always in the best frame of mind to deal with the fallout, but with every scrap of progress Yuzu gets more confident, and soon his worries stop being about whether or not he'll be able to skate in PyeongChang, but whether or not he still has a shot at defending his Olympic title. Javi thinks he does, but he knows Yuzu like the back of his hand, he's past the point of needing encouragement, now he needs a challenge, coming from anywhere else besides his own body. So Javi just shrugs and tells him, "Eh, that Chen kid is pretty good, you never know."

 

They have a nasty fight about the amount of painkillers Yuzu is taking, Javi doesn't like it, Yuzu asks him if he would prefer it if Yuzu was screaming in agony every time he tried to land a jump. It's a shitty situation, and they can only try to make the best of it.

 

Arriving in PyeongChang is a relief, Javi is confident in his programs in a way he wasn't back in Sochi. Yuzu has all of his jumps back but agreed to leave out all the ones that put the most strain on his ankle, he'll need to skate both the free and a short clean and get top GOE on almost all elements to get a chance at winning gold. Javi thinks that extra layer of added difficulty will make sure he does, more than any extra practice they can cram in at three in the morning. Like a diamond, Yuzu shines under pressure.

 

Javi and Yuzu sleep in separate rooms some nights, for appearances' sake but also because most days they're too tired to do anything besides sleep. The night before the short, however, Yuzu slips into Javi's room in the middle of the night and gets into bed with him without Javi even noticing. Javi has to admit that waking up to a surprise armful of warm Yuzu is a better start to the morning than to an empty bed.

 

The day keeps right on being great. Javi skates a flawless short and so does Yuzu. When Javi asks him, Yuzu says his ankle isn't giving him any trouble, it's not exactly the truth not really a lie either. They come to an agreement, Yuzu will stop taking painkillers as soon as the Olympics are over, and he'll pull out of Worlds and rest. It's as good a compromise as he'll ever get from Yuzu and Javi takes it.

 

Javi is glad he didn't have is mind set on silver, because he doesn't get it. The colour of the medal wasn't really the point, the important thing was to bring one back to Spain in the first place, and Javi does that.

 

In hindsight, choosing the post-victory hug to inform Yuzu he was retiring was maybe not Javi's smartest decision. In his defense he was high on adrenaline at the time, and the sentiment he was trying to convey was more along the lines of, 'I'm glad I didn't retire four years ago, everything we went through was worth it for this moment, I love and cherish you,' and less 'I'm leaving, this is goodbye', but Yuzu's tear ducts were already working overtime by the time Javi could whisper his true intentions against his ear. Poor Shoma was left looking between the two of them without having the faintest idea what was going on.

 

"He's mouthy, and an asshole. He knows what was going on," Yuzu tells Javi when they get back to his room.

 

"If you say so," Javi says. He has trouble picturing it somehow, but Yuzu would know better than him, what with speaking Japanese and thus being able to have conversations with Shoma.

 

"You really have to go?" Yuzu asks, switching subjects. He wasn't too happy to learn Javi is going back to Spain before the exhibition gala to fulfil some PR commitments, and strike while the iron is hot, in a manner of speaking. God knows how long the sudden interest in figure skating will last, he can't let the opportunity slip.

 

"I won't be gone long," Javi says with an indulgent smile, he cradles Yuzu's face in his hand and leans over to drop a kiss on his lips. "Back before you know it."

 

"Fine, but I will flirt with other skaters."

 

Javi snorts. "You always do." Yuzu looks affronted at the notion, but Javi speaks again before he can interject, "You're wearing the Swan costume for the gala, right?"

 

Yuzu gives him a puzzled look and nods.

 

"Tell you what, when I get back I'll peel it off of you with my teeth."

 

"I can put it on, and you can do it now," Yuzu says, a little breathless.

 

"Didn't I tell you, baby? Some things are worth waiting for."

 

\---

 

In March, instead of going to Worlds Javi and Yuzu spend some time in Madrid. Just a few days, before having to go their separate ways for a while. Spring is late this year; the Almond trees still have blossoms when they should have already shed all the flowers by now. Javi takes the opportunity to show Yuzu around Quinta de los Molinos.

 

It's a weekday so there aren't that many people about, just a few cyclists and a couple of families laying down on blankets. It's been a while since Javi was last here, but it's just as beautiful as he remembers, rows upon rows of almond trees, light pink as far as the eye can see. The wind picks up and lifts a flurry of petals into the air, Javi puts a hand in front of his face to stop them getting into his eyes and mouth, Yuzu closes his eyes and just lets them rain down on him.

 

"Nice, eh?" Javi says, wrapping one arm around Yuzu's waist. "If we arrived here just a week later we would've missed it."

 

Yuzu nods. "Cherry trees are the same."

 

"It's more special because it lasts only for a while," Javi says, kicking up flowers with every step. It's like a carpet of pink garlands.

 

"Uhm, like figure skating," Yuzu says, with a crooked smile. When he smiles like that sometimes it hurts Javi to look at him.

 

"Yeah, like figure skating."

 

They kiss against the trunk of a nearby tree, openly and unconcerned, no one is going to recognise them, no one is going to care. Javi will never get tired of the feeling of Yuzu's slick lips beneath his, and of the little hitching gasp he lets out each time, before he opens his mouth and lets Javi slip his tongue inside. A petal falls between their faces, getting stuck to Yuzu's cheek, and they pull away slightly to laugh and share breath, a different type of intimacy.

 

A group of people walking by shout 'Congratulations!' at them, Javi is very confused for a second before realising they probably think he and Yuzu just got engaged. The idea has its merits if Javi is honest. Something to look forward to, maybe.

 

"Why are you smiling?" Yuzu asks him, when Javi can't stop grinning long enough to kiss him properly.

 

"Just thinking."

 

"About what?"

 

"Almond trees and cherry trees. Two different species of trees, from different parts of the world, nothing in common on the surface, but yet, once a year, around the same time, they put on a very similar show, and millions of people around the world go out of their way to watch it."

 

Yuzu's smile takes up half his face, his cheeks almost swallow up his eyes, Javi doesn’t think he's ever seen him look more beautiful. "Talented trees," he says, against Javi's lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I send Yuzu and Javi on an over-indulgent and improbable holiday, in what was otherwise a fic that somewhat stuck to real life events? Hell yeah, I did.
> 
> Nene - baby boy


End file.
